


TROOPER

by electricaaaaaa



Series: Make It Right [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Canon Rewrite, Combat, Emotional, Espionage, F/M, First Order, Friendship, Fulcrum, Funny, Gen, Hyperspeed, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jedi, JetTroopers, Jetpack Troopers, Mandalorian, Me trying to make things make sense basically., Mental Health Issues, Mentioned Knights of Ren, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Outer Space, POV Original Character, Pilots, Politics, Post-Star Wars: Rebels, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Rebel Alliance, Resistance, Romantic Subplot, Science Fiction, Soft retcon of the sequel trilogy, Space Battles, Space Opera, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, Stormtrooper Culture (Star Wars), Suicide Attempt, Tags Are Hard, The Force, War, all the characters need a goshdarn hug, autonomy, recontextualizing old info, stormtroopers are people too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24314245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricaaaaaa/pseuds/electricaaaaaa
Summary: A Jet-pack Trooper determined to get revenge on the rebels who killed her parents discovers that she's Force-Sensitive. Chaos ensues as she attempts to not get caught and help the First Order in their mission as well as her own, while also learning to control her abilities which are rather unstable for some reason.This takes place alongside the Sequel Trilogy. So it's not directly about the sequel characters, but they will be in here, so I can try to very g e n t l y fix the sequel trilogy.
Series: Make It Right [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085267
Comments: 7
Kudos: 4





	1. Who Said Bar Fights Can't Be Fun?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at posting on this site so I hope you guys enjoy it!

One moment extended across a millennium. A disaster in slow-motion. One moment that the universe had jumped leaps and bounds to ruin the short, meaningless life of one person. 

A kriffing stormtrooper.

There was a sharp pain in Cora’s side, something she’d become frequently accustomed to after years in the First Order’s army. She frantically pressed one hand to her abdomen, plugging the wound if only for a moment before thick red blood began to ooze out the crevices and coming to coalesce in a pile on the floor next to her. Her legs wouldn’t move, having crumpled to the ground only moments earlier. Cora stared down at the blood in shock. The air gone from her lungs, her lips twitching ever so slightly at the sight. Yes, she’d been shot before, Cora had the evidence to prove it. But never before had there been so much _blood_. 

The sound of screeching metal filled her ears, bringing her back to reality. Cora looked up, the AT-AT Walker quickly eclipsing the bright industrial lights, causing the world around her to go dark. In a feeble attempt to protect herself from the falling AT Walker looming directly overhead, she raised one arm up, closing her eyes before the end. 

“NV-153!” Her arm stopped, the tip of the glass on her lips as she drifted her eyes away from the drink in front of her to a figure standing near the front of the room. She recognized that voice. Now she rolled her eyes, sighing as the glass returned to the table, and she stood up. There was only hate in Cora’s voice, “ _Cruise Verona_.” Her fellow troopers stared at her, wary of disrupting the showdown that had quickly brought the small back alley bar to a halt. Cruise gave her a smug grin, the rebellion in his eyes shone menacingly. Her stomach twisted in disgust, a sneer rolled its way onto her face. 

One stormtrooper, RB-763, stood up. He was one of the more level-headed ones of her squad. They called him Petre. Although that wasn’t really saying much. He reached one hand out towards Cora, in an attempt to calm her down. “NV, maybe you should wait-”

Before Petre could finish his sentence, Cora reached down the side of her armor, grabbing the blaster in the pocket there and shooting point-blank at Cruise. She held the blaster there, smoke pouring out, her finger trembling against the trigger. Unafraid of pulling it again, if need be. 

The smoke cleared, a bright smile glowing through the mist. Cruise stood proud, much to Cora’s dismay. He held an orange shield in front of his face, transparent in material and strapped to his arm. Yellow and opaque, but slowly fading away in the place where her blaster had hit. She frowned, having never seen something like that before, but growing more interested in it by the second. Cruise knocked against the shield with his fist, an air of arrogance surrounding him as he spoke, “A little something that the scientists back on _Hosnian Prime_ thought up,” he leaned in teasingly, just as several more rebels appeared behind him.

“Before well…,” he looked over to the side and his smile stretched downwards into a frown, “...you know.”

They blocked the only exit out, looking at the bar occupants with hard expressions on their faces. The stormtroopers slowly stood up, a brief hesitation in their movements as they prepared to leave the bar a lot bloodier than they’d anticipated. Cruise gazed at the shield, pride gleaming in his eyes, “One of a kind. Thought you might like it.” 

Cora took a step back, the odd circumstances causing a little voice in her head to unexpectedly go off. _Why are the rebels picking a fight? This isn’t like them._ But she didn’t think too much about it before her anger overtook her, and she saw red.

“You know what? _Yeah_ , I do.”

The glass of liquid courage forgotten, she charged at Cruise, letting out a war cry that seemed far too extravagant for a bar fight. Punching him in the nose, she caught a glimpse of the other rebels advancing as well, some grabbing glasses only to smash them on the heads of the troopers. Cruise pushed her back, using the shield to prevent her from trying to shoot him again. The other troopers joined in. They threw glasses and chairs at the rebels, in addition to brawling in a manner that would’ve made even the most low-ranking Imperial General roll in their graves. Cruise suddenly grabbed a blaster from inside his jacket, firing on Cora. He watched as the bullet simply deflected itself off her modified stormtrooper armor, but not before making a noticeable dent. Cruise glanced at the weapon, confusion filling his face.

“Huh,” he looked at her, “Usually, that works.”

It was Cora’s turn to look arrogant. She shrugged, her face contorting into a _what can you do?_ expression, “Sorry.” 

Finally, Cruise threw his blaster aside, instead opting to grab a still full glass and smash it against her unfortunately unprotected head. Cora let out a cry, shaking the glass from her hair and the water from her eyes. Her face growing in fury as she let out something akin to a growl, teeth clenched in anger. 

Cora and Cruise continued to spar, with Cruise using her armor to throw her over a table, hitting the wall as a result. Her back cried out in pain for a moment when she stood back up, quickly closing the distance between them again as she stepped on his foot. He looked down for a moment. She grabbed his shoulders, using them as leverage as she kneed him in the groin. He let out a pained cry that sounded just a few octaves higher than what he usually sounded like. Cora let out a chuckle as she repeated the motion again for good measure. He wheezed, his hands on his knees, but surprisingly not down for the count. In between pained and choked breaths, he spoke, “So you wanna play dirty, huh?” Cora’s eyes went wide. He reached for her legs, using her arms on his shoulders as an anchor to throw her up and over. Cora went crashing to the ground, now out of breath herself after having it flung out of her. She regained her energy, using her leg to sweep Cruise’s out from under him. In desperation, Cruise scrambles to grab his blaster lying a few inches away before shooting Cora again. This time successfully hitting her in a chink in the armor on her abdomen. Cora screamed, her eyes going wide in pain as she struggled to keep herself from bleeding out. Cruise goes quiet, a remorseful look suddenly overtaking his features. She stopped herself, unable to comprehend that the rebel in front of her almost looked like he regretted that shot. She regained her composure quickly, smiling at his foolishness. 

Cora reached out, throwing herself on top of Cruise in his moment of weakness. She landed a few good punches to his face before stopping, her fist just inches from pummeling Cruise’s pretty arrogant face into oblivion. An idea forming her head, Cruise simply laughed. Blood stained his clothes, and he looked like he was going to have a few good bruises in the morning. He wiped a trail of blood from his mouth, looking up at her. “You know,” he gestured to his compromised situation, “Maybe you should invite me on a date first.” Cora didn’t even acknowledge him as she took in the room. At the _mess_ the rebels had decided to make. For a reason that hadn’t become clear to Cora until this very moment. She looked down at Cruise, a smile of realization on her face, “ _You’re here to distract us, aren’t you?_ ”

Cruise didn’t even deny it, he simply smiled and shrugged a little, “ _Well,_ we figured if we’re going to blow up your ship, we might as well prevent some unneeded casualties.” Cora’s eyes grew wide at the reply, her heart sinking as she realized the gravity of the situation. Her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes grew dark in anger. She put all the strength she had into one last hit before knocking Cruise out cold. Cora caught her breath, a little feeling of victory passing through her thoughts before she quickly moved on, heading for her helmet in the midst of the chaos. She put it on running back to the exit, but not before stopping to remove the shield Cruise had on his arm. A victory prize, she thought. She kicked him in the arm, watching as he lied motionless on the dirt floor.

Cora sneered, “ _Rebel scum_.” The trooper rubbed her hands together in satisfaction, taking only a few steps outside the bar before her eyes rolled back into her head and Cora’s knees fell out from under her. The darkness quickly crowded in around her. The adrenaline in her veins had run out when she crashed to the floor. The wound in her side providing a dull distraction to the feeling of cold concrete hitting her square in the face. 

It would be several minutes before Cora would move again. 

There was a sudden jerk in her body, before she sat straight up. Heart pounding in her chest, her eyes were wide and face unnaturally pale in shock. Cora placed a hand above her heart, desperately trying to calm down her breathing. In her haze, she stood up, looking down at the place where Verona had lain unconscious. Gone. There was a sudden spark of anger in her chest that only increased when she noticed the shield she’d taken off him was gone too. Cora groaned in annoyance, looking up at the perpetual pink-orange sky above her. A thought suddenly came to her as she remembered the rebel’s confession. Another rush of adrenaline pushed her to run in the direction of the doomed cruiser, _The Eclipse_. 

The fight had started to spill out on the streets now. An amalgamation of flying armored fists, sweat, and broken glass. 

She looked back at her fellow stormtroopers, “Hey guys….?”, Cora’s voice faltered. A small look of amusement passed across her face as she weakly pointed back at their ship. 

Cora then realized they wouldn’t hear her, too engaged in the fight and their inebriated state to realize there was more sinister work at play. She ran into the city, hoping to find a shuttle to the _Eclipse_ before it was too late.

The city of Nagato was a combination of unbridled capitalism and a timeshare ad for Tatooine that Cora had seen somewhere. And overpopulation, _lots of overpopulation_. People practically poured out of windows, which all oddly resembled upside semi-circles. A detail that Cora had pondered when she’d first arrived on the planet months ago. The odd geometry of the city was nothing like she’d seen before. The structure was very grid-like, but the buildings were all shaped like triangles. There was a plaza at nearly every major intersection, with small lush parks being the only thing that could be described as nature in this duracrete jungle. Holographic billboards seemed to be up on nearly every wall that Cora passed, changing her blank armor into a canvas of unmitigated color. There were also bridges and ladders, connecting every building and stretching far up into the clouds. It was one of these bridges that Cora came across as she moved higher up the city, crisscrossing quickly through dank back-alleys and warm, bright food markets. Her boots clanked against the metal floor beneath her, echoing across the tight valley’s between the buildings that seemed to amplify the sound further. 

Cora climbed up another set of stairs, finally reaching the top of one building where there was a shuttle station. She placed a hand in front of her face, keeping the blazing dusk out of her eyes as the sun stayed fixed on the horizon, a red fiery ball in the distance that would never rest. Another interesting feature of Nagato, the planet was a bizarre anomaly in that it didn’t rotate, meaning that it was always dusk. A peaceful mix of colors mixed with the blinding orange sunlight that shone to the west. Cora made her way to the platform, stepping into the small shuttle and finding it surprisingly empty. She took a seat on a cold plastic chair, the artificial fluorescent lights calming her for a moment as she stared straight ahead. There was a tinny robotic voice coming from the pilot’s chair, “Credentials?” Cora shook her head, her eyebrows lowering as she leaned in to the sound, “What?”

The pilot’s chair spun around, revealing a small pilot droid, holding its small hand out. “Credentials?” Her eyes squinted in disbelief, she gestured toward her stormtrooper armor, “Wha- Can’t you see I’m obviously supposed to be on this shuttle?” The droid seemed to process that for a moment, before spouting out a phrase that sounded oddly more robotic than usual, “Miss, I am a Class 5 Public Pilot Shuttle Droid, I must follow protoco-” Cora waved a hand, “Yeah, whatever.” She passed him her id reluctantly as the droid scanned it, a series of beeps and whirs and a quick look at an anxious Cora before finally the robot quieted.

“This is sufficient,” The robot spinned around in its chair and blasted off the station platform quicker than Cora could sit back down. She flew backwards, landing in her chair only out of pure luck instead of going splat against the back of the ship. Her hands went white as she gripped the chair. Cora’s shoulders were tense around her ears as she tried to yell over the roar of the engine, “Could you maybe slow down?!” 

“Slow down, you say? Well, my sensors indicated you seemed to be in a rush but alright then.” The robot sounded inquisitive of her request as it took its hand off the accelerator. Cora practically screamed as she fell forward, falling at the feet of the robot who had its hand gently on the accelerator. Apparently, now it wanted to go for a leisurely drive. Cora looked up, a groan crawling out as she looked through the front viewport of the shuttle. The Cruiser, intact. She laughed, picking herself up off the ground to stare at the ship. _Maybe they failed?_ There was a small flicker of hope that sparked in her chest at the sight. 

The smile immediately faded from Cora’s face when she heard a loud boom that echoed across the blue. The large explosion that rocked the ship afterwards didn’t much help either. The hope fluttered from her chest. There was a longing, a piece of her heart on that ship, her identity even. It was like watching her parents die in front of her all over again. She looked away from the mesmerizing trance of the ship starting to fall from the sky and grabbed the robot’s pseudo shoulder, pulling the droid to look at her.

“I need to be up there _now_.”

“I can’t do that.”

Cora was taken aback by this answer, her anger only growing stronger, “Why not?”

“I am a Class 5 Public Pilot Shuttle Droid. I must follow protocol. And protocol says I cannot endanger the life of a living being.”

“But I _want_ to go up there!”

“I am sorry.”

Cora groaned again, pulling her hands down across her face in frustration, before glancing at the panel of buttons that controlled the ship. She looked up to the heavens and winced, her mouth curving into a frown. Then, she looked at the droid before making up her mind. “And I’m sorry for this, rustbucket.” She grabbed the droid out of his chair and placed him in her chair, rushing to the controls. The shuttle’s alarms screamed as its sensors realized no one was piloting the ship, before Cora sat down and pressed a small button that placed seatbelts on all the passengers. Essentially keeping the robot where it was. Cora was sure the robot was protesting her actions, but she couldn’t hear, too busy trying not to crash. She could hear the blood running in her ears, the sweat on her hands and the anxiety of the task in front of her causing her hands to shake violently, unable to keep the shuttle steady for more than a few seconds at a time. “It’s just like a rocket-pack, Cora. No big... No big deal.” 

She took a breath, gripping the control wheel as best she could. Flying toward the cruiser, she quickly flew straight up at an angle that seemed to send the robot into a tizzy. As the ship grew closer and damaged more apparent, Cora felt relief, being so close to the object of her desire and thankful that the small transport shuttle hadn’t come apart at her hands. A thought that was quickly replaced by a sheer panic as the engine quieted, making noises that simply didn’t sound right. The engine had stalled. The robot let out a shrill scream, something matching Cora’s own as she felt gravity leave her for a second and the ship got farther away instead of closer. She looked down at the controls, several lights and buttons were blinking as she realized that the only button she actually knew was the one for the automatic seatbelts. Cora’s eyes only reflected defeat, “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.”

The shuttle continued to fall, thankfully the cruiser was so high up in the atmosphere that it would take the small shuttle several more... _seconds_ to crash to the ground. Cora only stood frozen, her hands hovering above the controls in fear of making it worse. Any noise she made was quickly suppressed by the sounds from the _Eclipse_ and the robot’s screams. Amid the chaos, Cora placed her hands over her ears to attempt to quiet out the noise, think of something, _anything_ that would save her. There were several Imperial curses that ran through her mind as she regretted leaving her rocket-pack behind on the ship. Cora was one of the best jetpack troopers the Order had, she never went anywhere without it. But the recent weeks had seen such low rebel activity that when Cora had decided to go down the surface, she’d gone without it. A small lesson about letting her guard down that she would never forget again. If she even had the chance to.

Nothing came to Cora that would help her. Nothing. And in a fit of rage so fleeting, Cora slammed her fists down on the control panel, “Just WORK!” The hit must’ve done something, as the engine miraculously started to power back up, lifting the stormtrooper and the droid out of certain doom.

Cora looked down at the controls, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Huh. That’s not supposed to work.” 

But she immediately looked past it, grateful for the small gift from whatever celestial being had decided to be nice to her today and fly on. This time in a way that wasn’t as damaging to the engines as flying straight up was. The Cruiser had taken even more damage now, with fuel leaking out the bottom, showering the city below and fire nearly engulfing the entire front portion of the ship. Since Cora didn’t know how to enable the landing gear, she gently crashed in the nearest landing zone that wasn’t already ablaze, leaving the shuttle behind as she made her way to the living quarters. 

There were screams, the sounds of alarms and parts of the ship creaking and collapsing altogether filling her ears as Cora weaved her way through the halls. The hallways were so crowded, filled to the brim with people trying desperately to evacuate. She stepped over more trampled bodies than she could count. Finally, Cora reached the living quarters, turning a corner into a hallway that was practically empty. She ran to one of the doors on the left-hand side, swiping her ID against the terminal to enter. The room was small, but comfortable. A desk and lots of storage units on one side and the bed against the wall farthest from her. Everything was a cold durasteel material, the only warmth being a small viewport directly above the bed that filled the room with a pink dying light as the ship swirled further and further into oblivion. 

Cora ran and jumped onto her small bed, leaning over the edge and grabbing a small duffel bag she’d concealed under it. This had everything she owned, or anything that mattered to her. She frantically unzipped the small bag and reached inside, feeling around for an item before pulling it out. A necklace, dainty and too small to wear around her neck. A circle pendant made of beskar metal was the only accessory to it. Cora turned the pendant around in her fingers, reading the tiny words inscribed on the back:

_We’ll always love you, Cora. - Mom and Dad_

Cora’s breathing shook a little as she closed her eyes, tightly pressing the pendant to her lips as she kissed it. A small amount of hope and relief filled her chest, the words seemingly calming her for a moment. Bringing the world around her to a halt, so she could savor this one moment of peace.

Then, she stood up, placing the necklace back in the duffel and placing it over her shoulders. Cora’s face went blank, her mouth set in a hard line. She wasn’t out of the black hole yet. She quickly grabbed up her rocket-pack from the corner of the room and placed that on her back too. Cora looked around the room that had been her home for months and moved on, running out to catch the last evac shuttle before it left.

As Cora made her way out of the small corridor where her squad had lived, she briefly looked back, glancing thoughtfully at each of the doors. Others had chosen not to join them on their little traipse to the surface for a drink. A tiny voice in the back of her mind hoped they’d made it out.

Hope.

Now _that_ was a dangerous thing to have in the First Order.

The ship tilted violently, causing Cora to slide to the right, colliding with the wall. She hung there for dear life as the ship slowly balanced itself out. The engines probably working overtime to compensate for the damages done to the ship. The cruiser would not last long. There was a voice over the intercom guiding all personnel to find the nearest landing bay to evacuate. For Cora that was the one she’d come in from. Bay 18.

The lights shut off, replaced with an overpowering red that consumed the corridors. The sirens only intensified as Cora continued on. 

Cora held on tightly to the walls for support, feeling the corridor shake as the ship took a few wheezy breaths. The halls were nearly empty now, most people having evacuated. Although the people that Cora did happen to come upon didn’t even so much as look at her. The infrastructure of the ship collapsing beneath her feet. She was starting to feel the effects of the blaster-shot now, her breathing becoming heavier and heavier in time with the ship itself. Sweat made its home on Cora’s brow. There were a few times when she threatened to collapse again. But for nothing more than the simple thought of how nice it would be to sleep once this day was over, Cora kept on. 

Finally, with a sigh of relief, she reached Bay 18. The red sun on the horizon warmed her skin, obliterating the cold left behind by the practically below zero temperatures the ships operated in. As quickly as she could, Cora ran for the one evac ship in the landing bay, the ship filling up fast. The ship screamed, there was an explosion from beneath the ship when 2 of the cruiser’s engines gave out completely. Cora went flying as the ship continued to turn, her back hitting the wall taking the air out of her lungs entirely. She saw stars, her vision gone black. Cora crumpled to the floor, a sickening screech assaulting her eardrums from above her. The detail and color in her eyes started to return, her eyes going wide as saucers when she stared at the walker directly above her. Before she knew it, her breath caught tightly in her throat, her eyes closed tightly in defeat, she extended an arm out to brace herself. Cora heard the walker fall down around her. She expected to feel the various metal pieces impaling or worse maiming her at any second. She hoped it would be quick.

Nothing. 

Her death never came.

Her whole body shook furiously, her eyebrows knitted in pain. 

Nothing. 

She heard the metal creaking dangerously above her. Cora opened her eyes.

The metal of the walker was screeching, bending safely around her arm. The walker now leaned/floated on its side, held up by some magical force that protected Cora from going splat. Frantically, Cora kept her arm up for as long as she could, before rolling out from underneath the walker’s crushing weight and watching as the walker finally collided with the floor. There was now a small fire in what would’ve been the cockpit. And her final resting place.

Cora backed away from the wreck, her eyes wild and barely glistening with tears. She ripped off her helmet, allowing herself to breathe in the Nagato air mixed with the fumes from the fire. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked down at her hands, scrutinizing them fearfully. Someone yelled at her, but Cora couldn’t hear. The blood rushing in her ears drowning out the sound of anything for a few seconds. She couldn’t move, her body and mind reeling from what the small action of holding her arm up had done.

And Cora didn’t notice it at first, but as time went on, as slowly as it seemed to move for her just then, there was something new in the recesses of her mind. There was power there, but also a new connection that anchored her to everything around her and also something unknown. An intruder that Cora quickly shied away from.

Finally, someone grabbed underneath her arms, dragging her towards the ship as it breathed its last. Cora didn’t even react, too caught up in her own mind to notice the cruiser falling apart around her. They dragged her onto a small bench in the crowded shuttle. Someone yelled at the pilot to leave. Her eyelids were getting heavy. The sudden desire to sleep filling Cora’s mind. 

Cora arrived back in her reality, watching the doors close and the shuttle fly away from the _Eclipse_. Her last moments of consciousness consisting of the cruiser exploding, breaking apart and burning up in the blue.


	2. A Dangerous Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora is reunited with her squad, and we start to see the fallout of the rebel's attack.

“You owe me, by the way.”

“What?” Cora’s eyes shot open as she moved to sit up. A corrugated metal ceiling greeted her when her head collided with a loud thunk. A loud groan escaped Cora’s throat that seemed to echo across the walls of her small living space. Laying back down on the cheap mattress, she held her forehead in pain. 

“ _Ow_.”

For the moment, the only things visible were various blobs in different shades of dull gray and a startling streak of blonde hair. Someone by Cora’s bedside rolled their eyes, and turned away from her. “ _She’s awake_ ,” they spoke in a low sing-songy tone. Cora heard the sounds of a few footsteps coming closer to her, before she rubbed her eyes and her vision cleared. She sat up slowly this time, glancing at the stormtroopers around her who seemed somehow _happy_ to see her. The looks on their faces were solemn, with the corners of their lips tugging upwards in some sort of bittersweet joy. 

ZA-156 smiled teasingly, reaching out of ruffle Cora's brown hair. They called her Zera. Cora bowed out of the gesture as quickly as possible. She was the youngest in their squadron, forever destined to be treated like a child. "Way to join us in the land of the living, Cora." Zera's voice was strict and firm, but soft all the same. Something like what Cora imagined a mother would sound like. 

The sight of the stormtroopers in front of her brought a _very_ slight smirk to Cora’s face before she changed the subject. She looked at the cheerful blonde-haired stormtrooper, her head leaning lazily into her right hand. “I owe you for what? Exactly?” Her right eyebrow quirked up in teasing. 

“Well, I had to convince the graysuits _not to_ put you out of your misery and give you a temporary break while you recovered?” The captain of Zeta Squadron said as a matter of factly. Zera seemed proud of herself, an arrogant smile plastered firmly on her face. Because arrogance was the only sort of happiness allowed by the First Order. A rule that had been taught to her when Cora had first come into the Order’s custody. 

“Recovered?” Cora’s face fell as she struggled to remember the events leading up to her waking up in this unfamiliar bed. The stormtrooper continued on, a shudder seemed to run down her spine when she uttered her next words, “Almost got _brainscraped_ for even attempting to talk to them. But you know, what are colleagues for.”

Everyone’s face soured for a moment, glancing at Zera in silent acknowledgement. 

Cora’s face lit up in surprise as her memories came flooding back to her, “Wait, break? How long was I out?” The so-called “breaks” the First Order gave them were few and far between, even if her squadron was one of the higher performing ones. The stormtrooper’s arrogant facade flickered into one of reluctance before she replied reluctantly, “3 days.” 

Cora quickly placed a hand over her mouth. Her wide eyes darted around to the other members of her squad, who simply nodded in confirmation. She looked back down at the stormtrooper, slowly removing her hand from her mouth before angrily hissing, “ _Three days!_ ” 

Cora’s eyes unfocused, the gravity of the situation hitting her. The staggering amount of training Greer would make her do to catch up made Cora’s muscles turn to jelly at the thought of it. The last time she managed to have a “break”, Cora had barely slept for 2 days afterwards. Her training instructor making her run the same drills over and over until she passed out from exhaustion. But soon, her mind took a darker turn. Out of the corner of her eye, Cora looked down at her hand. 

_Whatever I did to the AT took a lot out of me._ There was a dangerous thought creeping its way into Cora’s mind. A possibility that she didn’t even want to consider. Simply thinking about it would get her scraped. 

In her squad’s last year at the academy, they’d pulled all of them aside. Stuck them into a small room and played a holovid. The holovid in question began with a warning, detailing all the ways they would be made an example of if they ever revealed the information told to them in that room. Needless to say, it was a very graphic visual. Then, it continued on, explaining the oddity that was the Jedi. Who were able to use something called _The Force_ to move objects with their mind. How they frequently worked with the Rebel Alliance and how they had caused the deaths of potentially millions across the galaxy in their ill-fated wars. The holovid had then shown them clips of Jedi silently raising their hands, before moving objects to harm fellow stormtroopers. Scenes of them commanding clone armies of thousands. Images of them helping rebels accomplish their devious goals. _Those_ in particular had sent Cora’s blood boiling. 

Specifically, she focused on the images of the Jedi moving things with their minds. She remembered the way she’d raised her hands in defense at her impending death by the AT-AT Walker. A death that was halted when she’d miraculously kept the Walker from crushing her completely. Cora quickly wrapped her arms around her legs, a cold shiver rolling down her spine. Both from a draft as well as the sudden coldness forming in the pit of her stomach from the unknown certainty about what exactly was happening to her.

Cora really needed to throw up.

But that would have to wait, as a sharp knock on the door brought her back to reality. All of her squad-mates looked fearfully at the door, before one of them quickly pressed their ID to the terminal. Opening the door to a strict-looking First Order Officer with his hands crossed behind his back. His voice was monotone and uncaring. The officer’s eyes grew dark as he poked his head into the small living quarters assigned to the 5 JetPack Troopers. He caught a glimpse of Cora, “Will NV-153 be awake soon?” The trooper at the door, OZ-952, who they called Ozcar, stood still for a moment, processing the question. He looked back at Cora to find her lying back down on her bed, eyes closed, chest falling slowly up and down in sleep. “She’s…,” he struggled to find an answer for the briefest of moments and quickly regained his composure, “She’s still unconscious, I’d give 'er one more day.” Ozcar thought the graysuit had almost seen through his lie, but all the officer saw was the tiniest shift in Ozcar's features. A testament to the stormtrooper's ability to lie.

The officer grunted acknowledgingly, although he didn’t seem too pleased with that answer. “It _better_ be,” there was the vague hint of a threat in that response as the officer started to walk away. 

The troopers simply nodded their heads, “Yes sir,” looking in that moment like nothing more than the children they’d been brought here as. 

They closed the door, allowing themselves to breathe as Cora sat upright again. Ozcar chuckled slightly, pointing his finger teasingly at her as he reached up to get on his own bunk. The second one on Cora’s side. “You are _so lucky_ , you know that? And sneaky.” Ozcar dangled his head off the bunk to look directly at Cora as he continued, “When was the last time any of us ever got a break like this?” His eyes narrowed accusingly at Cora, his freckled face scrunching together in a humorous way. Zera chimed in, “Never.” Ozcar pushed himself out of Cora’s view, into his own bunk again. Cora heard the dull sound above her when he laid down. His reply echoed off the walls, “Exactly!” Ozcar’s voice had always intrigued Cora. Obviously, none of them could remember where they’d come from. But Cora could still hear the remnants of another life in his voice. Refined and proper, but with an odd twang to it that she’d had given up trying to pinpoint several years ago.

Cora chuckled, finding her voice again. “Well, it’ll all be over tomorrow.” She laid down in her bunk.

“Then, you can go back to being jealous over my other _wondrous talen_..” Her voice fell off. Almost in an instant, the calm that had saturated Cora’s being was gone when she looked around, a terrified shallowness in her breaths. “Kriff, where’s my…!” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. The sudden realization of the loss of her only remnant of her family. Gone. 

The look of sheer panic rising up in Cora’s features must’ve been severe because Zera's eyes grew wide and she reached under Cora’s cot into one of the several storage bins located in the squadron’s small quarters. Cora released a heavy sigh at the sight of the ratty duffel, snatching it from the blond towards her chest, clutching it like a small child would an ewok plush. 

Her sigh echoed across the room, into Petre’s one of exhaustion. Petre's eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth in an emotionless line. “I’ll never understand why that thing’s so important to you.” 

Cora, mirroring Petre’s face, looked down at the bag in her hands. She looked up at Petre’s expression before straightening up, allowing the bag to rest at her side with her hand protectively placed atop it. A ball of embarrassment forming in her throat. Her face mute and emotionless. She struggled to find the words for a moment before replying, “It’s important.” _To me_. 

Petre looked down at the bag and seemed to accept her answer. He reached up towards the top bunk opposite Cora’s, using the small footholds as leverage to push him himself up, finally landing up in the bunk with a creaking sound that couldn’t have been good. Meanwhile, Ozcar remarked, “It’s _empty_.” 

Cora smiled, a twinge of arrogance warming her otherwise cold features. _That’s what you think._

The lights in their quarters suddenly shut off, a beep signaling to the troopers that the doors to their room and their cots would shut soon. And not open again until morning. 

Zera climbed up to her bunk, the top one above Ozcar's and Cora’s. And Cora layed down for what she thought would be the final time that night. Placing the duffel bag beside her, refusing to let it out of her sight.

There were no goodnights between them. They all silently laid down in their bunks, trying to spot their comrades faces in the dark. Perhaps wanting to take a look at each other, as if one of them would be mysteriously gone in the morning for a reason that would never be given to them. Or maybe a silent prayer of sorts that tonight would be one of those good nights. Where their precious scheduled sleep hours weren’t interrupted by rebel schemes. Or surprise midnight missions. Designed by the graysuits to keep them on their toes.

Nonetheless, it was a shared action which they never spoke of the next morning. 

There was another beep, louder this time. The door trapping the troopers in their bunks, slowly slid down. Softly screeching with its wear and rust over the years as Cora watched her comrades' faces vanish and the world around her fade into a menacing black. The emptiness of Cora’s small (The word _coffin_ , despite Cora’s better judgement would often come to mind) bed filled with the sounds of only her own breathing, followed by hollow metal footsteps coming from somewhere outside in the hallway and the restless wind. 

Normally, Cora had a very difficult time sleeping in new places. Despite the very obvious fact that this place was nowhere near new. However tonight, she didn’t seem to be gripped by the same weakness. Her body at present seemed eager to return to the safe comforting place her unconsciousness had held her for the past 3 days. Holding the duffel bag tightly, Cora closed her eyes and turned over to sleep, facing the wall.

Yet, Cora’s cheek never hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this came out so late. I'm not gonna make any promises as to when the next chapter will be coming out, but I would like to publish one every month, so we'll see. Also, it's funny, but I already want to revise the first chapter. I wrote that first chapter mere weeks after seeing the original trilogy for the first time, so I think there might be a lot wrong with it, because nothing was planned out yet. However, I hope you enjoy the story and stick with me through this writer's block. :)


	3. A Night to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora dreams a few little dreams and the Force continues to reveal itself to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING PLEASE READ: This wasn't planned when I first started the story, but I've tried to tag as appropriately as I can, and I'm warning you now: PLEASE THIS CHAPTER HAS SUICIDE MENTIONS AND REFERENCES TO SUICIDE. Don't read if that stuff is triggering to you. That being said, I have put a line in between where the suicide mentions start and end so just read the parts outside that, and you should be good.
> 
> I've never posted something like this on AO3 so if something isn't adequate, please comment.
> 
> If you do decide to read, I hope you like the chapter?? Is that what you say in situations like these?

Normally, Cora had a very difficult time sleeping in new places. Despite the very obvious fact that this place was nowhere near new. However tonight, she didn’t seem to be gripped by the same weakness. Her body at present seemed eager to return to the safe comforting place her unconsciousness had held her for the past 3 days. Holding the duffel bag tightly to her chest, Cora closed her eyes and turned over to sleep, facing the wall.

Yet, Cora’s cheek never hit the pillow.

And her duffel bag slipped from her hands as she fell. The wind roared in Cora’s ears, hair flying all around her. It _screamed_ at her to open her eyes. Cora refused. The sinking feeling in her stomach growing more and more powerful by the second.

Despite the situation, it felt peaceful up there in the blue. Quiet, All the JetTrooper wanted to do in that moment was go back to sleep. Sleep away the pain, the graysuits, the death, all of it. Just like she’d always done.

A few seconds later, the sinking feeling in her stomach worsened, transforming into this odd pulling sensation like a slingshot. As if someone had just pulled back, let go, and she was the rubber band. 

She kept falling. The walls of the shuttle like water as she passed through them, her back arcing as it hit the metal pilot’s chair. Cora’s eyes snapped open and her neck strained itself against the whiplash. Cora grimaced at the feeling, before staring down at her hands. She was wearing her armor. Cora looked up. 

The cruiser. Falling out of the sky towards its fiery death once again. The sounds of sirens blaring in her ears sent a jolt through her body. She immediately reached for the controls, grabbing the yoke in front of her and pulling up—to no avail.

The sound of her heart beating in her chest grew faster. There was a sensation like needles pricking her skin from the strength of her grip. The air rushed out of Cora’s lungs. 

Nothing came to Cora that would help her. Nothing. And in a fit of rage so fleeting, Cora slammed her fists down on the control panel, 

“Just WORK!”

The sound of the engines revving up allowed a small glimmer of hope to run through Cora’s system. The shuttle gained altitude for a couple of seconds—just before the smile was wiped off Cora’s face as the engines halted, sputtering and coughing in a way that couldn’t have possibly been good. Cora took a deep breath in, looked out at the _beautiful_ sky one last time…before the shuttle plummeted _straight_ into the ground.

The loss of gravity sent Cora spiraling, pulled her from her chair, plastered her body against the large front viewport of the shuttle. The pressure made her ears pop and head dizzy with nausea. With one quick turn to the left, Cora watched as the pilot droid was quickly unfastened from its chair and thrown against the wall, the parts breaking apart and shattering instantly. 

The sirens and alarms were louder now. _So...so...unbelievably loud_. It was impossible to even peel her arms off the wall, let alone cover her ears. All she could do was scream. Scream as loud as she could until her lungs grew tired and the headache behind her eyes was too much to bear and the darkness closed in around her. Even then, as her eyes closed and the shuttle started to crush as it grew quickly reacquainted with the ground, Cora was grateful. That her end would be quick.

“NV-153!” Cora’s eyes flashed open and her arm stopped, the tip of the glass on her lips as she drifted her eyes away from the drink in front of her to a figure standing near the front of the room. She recognized that voice. And this place. _The bar_. 

Now she rolled her eyes, sighing as the glass was returned to the table, and she stood up from her seat. 

There was only hate in Cora’s voice, “ _Cruise Verona_.” 

Cruise gave her a smug grin, the rebellion in his eyes shining menacingly. Her stomach twisted in disgust, a sneer rolled its way onto her face.

“NV, maybe you should wait-”

Before RB-763 could finish his sentence, Cora reached down the side of her armor, grabbing the blaster in the pocket there and shooting point-blank at Cruise. She held the blaster there, smoke pouring out, her finger trembling against the trigger. Quickly though, her whole hand started to shake, the movement spreading throughout her whole body before she couldn’t hold the blaster anymore, and it fell from her hands. Landing with a high-pitched thud against the cobblestone floor. Cora tried to stop her hand from shaking, the taste of something metallic starting to inch its way up her throat. She gasped for air and looked down at her abdomen.

Red stained the white of her armor, pouring down the side of her leg before it started to pool on the floor. Cora’s eyes grew wide and in an attempt to speak, only coughs of blood came out. Her eyes rolled up into her head and she fell to the ground, her eyes still and unfocused while her heart slowed. The sounds of the bar erupting into chaos keeping her lucid for a few moments more. Cora would last only seconds, useless attempts to cough up the blood lodged in her throat only made it easier for her to drown in it. Cora’s eyes unfocused and glazed over, the beat of her heart stopping replaced only by the sound of her fellow troopers crashing to the ground in similar fashion. 

Everything was black, and the colors shifted entirely to something new, and gray. There was a new sound now as well. A screeching that ripped Cora’s head in two.

The detail and color in her eyes started to return, her eyes going wide as saucers when she stared at the walker directly above her. Before she knew it, her breath caught tightly in her throat, her eyes closed tightly in defeat, she extended an arm out to brace herself. Cora heard the walker fall down around her. The world went black. A flash of brilliant pain sparked across Cora’s chest, and she resigned herself to death. 

She felt different now. 

There was a rather large hand wrapped around hers, squeezing her hand reassuringly. It’s presence warm and inviting, the stiffness in Cora’s body softened. She leaned into it, the feeling wrapping around her like a warm blanket. There was one—Cora realized, a warm blanket. Wrapped tightly around her. Or was that a coat? It felt much too big to be a coat. 

Cora opened her eyes. The world was still dark, but no longer did it smell of classic First Order Durasteel and fuel. No, this was… the forest, fresh air, metal, some aroma that Cora couldn’t place, but seemed vaguely familiar and … blood. Cora looked down at the hand holding hers, yes it was much bigger. But then of course, Cora’s hand was much smaller. Fragile and chubby, with her hand comfortably in the palm of the man’s. His were calloused and veiny, but gentle. Cora looked up to see the hand’s owner. Only to find the face empty, a smooth canvas with no distinguishable features. Cora wasn’t too shocked by this. Never shocked by this dream in particular. She’d been reliving this scene since she was 4.

They were in a small room, the walls and floor were made of crumbling gray duracrete. There was only one door, wooden and strongly made. But Cora knew the door wouldn’t hold—It never did. 

She imagined that the man must’ve been her father. And the woman—Cora turned her head to look—was her mother. Standing a few feet away from the door, her hands out in front of her with a long spear held between them. She balanced on the balls of her feet, ready to strike at a moment's notice. As far as Cora remembered, the woman never turned her face towards them. Although Cora figured the woman’s face would be similar to the man’s, blank, empty.

A memory of someone important that Cora would never regain.

She turned back to look at the man, eyebrows furrowing as the man started to speak. Said things in a tongue Cora didn’t understand. They sounded like they were supposed to be comforting though. The man in the next line would proceed to touch her face, cupping her small cheek in the palm of his hand. Cora let him, leaning into the gesture and closing her eyes. Savoring the peace and comfort amidst disaster.

The sound of their collective breathing started to become overpowered, filtering in as wave after wave of explosions seemed to decimate the ground outside. There was an alarm in the distance, wailing as if someone still needed warning. It was evident by the sounds of all the screams that no one did, however. 

Cora waited, it would only be a few minutes now. Minutes until Cora would have to watch as the rebels came and killed her parents.

The door burst off its hinges, flying off into the corner of the room. Everyone jumped from the suddenness of it. Including Cora, her eyes like saucers from the shock of the impact. _This isn’t what’s supposed to happen. It doesn’t go like this._ The moonlight poured into the room, leaving no nook untouched for the moment before a dark figure stepped in front of the doorway and obscured it from view. The darkness eclipsing the light. The woman went into attack position, moving to strike. The figure raised it’s right hand and _squeezed_ , putting an end to the motion. Cora heard a sharp snap, watching in horror as the woman crumpled to the ground dead. The figure only stood there, watched Cora for a moment before turning to look at the man, removing a blaster from it’s holster and shooting the man point-blank. The man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he fell over, hand falling from Cora’s cheek before he slumped against the duracrete wall. Cora let out a small scream, mind racing from how _not right this was_. The figure turned to look at her again. Despite how small she was, Cora’s small arms moved on their own, pushing her to move until her back hit the wall, shaking her head all the while. There was no air for Cora to breathe, her body ceasing to work and her stomach flipping over and over in a way that made Cora want to throw up and die right there. Helplessness stuck her to the spot, unable to move as the figure walked out of the darkness. 

A Stormtrooper. Cora’s ability to breathe truly left her in that moment. The trooper walked slowly to her, kneeling at her side. Cora searched the visor, unable to see who was underneath it. Until slowly, but surely the trooper reached up to remove its helmet to replace it with the face of—

Her own. Cora stared at herself. Not her as she was now, a helpless 4-year-old. No, as she would be in 20 years. NV-153. The Jettrooper’s face was emotionless, unfeeling except for the appearance of a small reassuring smile that quickly twisted into something much more sinister. NV-153 held out her hand, beckoning Cora to take it. Cora looked between the two: NV-153’s unfeeling eyes and her outstretched hand. Then, at the helmet NV-153 held under her arm, splattered with the blood of her parents. Did she have a choice? Cora wondered briefly. She scowled at her thoughts, her mind going dark. _No, I don’t. This is my fate. My punishment._

A moment later, the explosions stopped and NV-153 reached her hand out further as a small trembling hand quickly took it.

In the darkness, there was a constant drifting whisper that filled Cora’s head, carrying her out of a deep sleep and into consciousness:

_YOU SHOULD’VE DONE SOMETHING!_

Cora opened her eyes, stared into darkness for a few moments until they adjusted. Purified _painfully_ cold air jumpstarting her senses as she took a much needed breath in.

She was awake. 

Despite the smell of gunpowder and metal going full send up her nose, Cora turned onto her stomach and laid her head sideways against the rough pillow. An unusual draft filled the small space around Cora’s body, wrapping around her like a vise. She shivered and closed her eyes, starting to drift off into a far calmer sleep than before. 

But the draft continued to harass her, the thin sheets too flimsy to provide nothing more than perhaps fuel for a fire on a cold night. At least then, Cora could get warm. She tossed and turned for several more hours, moving so much that her temples started to break out in a cold sweat. Making her colder in spite of her own temperature rising.

Cora didn’t know when next she woke up, except that her internal clock told her it was close to morning. Their bunks would open soon and this time Cora couldn’t go back to sleep. Her nightmares and the ship itself had made sure of that. Although by the time that Cora had realized that fact, the memory of the dream had faded, only bits and pieces remaining in her mind. Even then, this time she’d remembered more than usual, the memory of the event that had changed her life forever more tangible and clear than it had ever been before.

Well, besides the fact that a stormtrooper hadn’t been the one to kill her parents. 

No, that’d been the New Republic.

She stared up at the ceiling, arms crossed above her chest. Cora inhaled, matching another noise in tone before it faded away into nothing. A hissing to her right. The stormtrooper paid no mind to it until it happened again, louder this time. Cora glanced to the door of her bunk, the mechanism holding it closed sparking, sending small bright lights to sizzle against the sheets of her bed. The door was slightly ajar, Cora quickly realized the draft that had halted her sleep last night had been from outside.

Cora stared, eyes curious, but she made no move to pry the door open further. There were rules. Protocols. Cora was a stormtrooper. Stormtroopers aren’t allowed to leave their quarters before their scheduled time and must adhere to all set itineraries. No exceptions.

 _“It’s what’s best for you,_ ” Many of Cora’s captains would say that. She never questioned them. Why would she? They were always right. Scheduled sleep allowed them to get the rest they needed to stay sharp on the battlefield. To proudly serve the First Order in the fight against the spineless _Resistance_.

Cora took much solace in that fact. That her purpose in life was laid out in front of her and it had been to _serve_ . That she never had to worry about things like _morality_ and _ethics_. With Cora, her captains had always simply pointed her in a direction, and she would do what she did best: kill.

Because she trusted them completely, and despite the First Order’s faults, Cora knew that would _never_ change.

Still. 

Cora wasn’t going back to sleep and now the universe had given her a literal out. Even now as Cora turned over to her side again to face the wall, the world around her quieted, the only noise from her own mind. Both from the growing dull throbbing behind her eyes that indicated a headache coming on and a slight buzz that rang in Cora’s ears. Wordlessly calling out for her. 

The trooper turned back over again, stared vehemently at the small slit in the door of her bunk. Stared at the metal corrugated floor that lay beyond—and all the dangers that came with it. The buzzing got louder and insistent, and it wasn’t long before Cora pried open the door and stepped out into the empty hallway of her squad’s quarters.

Someone was snoring. The small smirk creeped its way onto Cora’s face for a split-second, _Probably Ozcar, that dork_. She looked around, the doors to the other bunks were completely shut. If the buzzing hadn’t been an issue, Cora would’ve been more alarmed by that. The buzz grew to her right, Cora turned her head to look. The door to their quarters was also mysteriously open. That did catch Cora’s attention for a brief moment before she moved on. Moving quickly out the door, the buzz continuing to guide her. 

Cora took a step onto the spotless tile floor of the fresher. The door collided with a thud against the frame as it closed , quickening the pace of Cora’s heartbeat. The fluorescent lights overhead hummed with a particular buzz that seemed to penetrate her skull. Cora couldn’t think, her legs moved on their own towards the sinks, leaning over the edge of one and attempting to catch her breath.

The Stormtrooper didn’t even try to turn on the water to splash her face — the graysuits always turned off the water during sleeping hours. Cora’s eyes unfocused for a moment, turning the drain below her into a muddy mix of gray, black, and white as she swayed back and forth over the sink. Her eyebrows were low on her face, knotted in concentration from Cora’s attempts to block out her offending senses. After a few moments, thankfully, the buzz faded to the background and Cora lifted her head. 

Blood. That was the first thing she noticed in her reflection. Dotting her cheek and armor. Cora stiffly reached up to her face, and when her fingertips came back clean, she glanced back to the mirror. A sinister smile replaced Cora’s blank expression. And she finally recognized the image. _NV-153_. The one from her dream.

The two parallels simply stared at each other. Cora with her hand hovering inches away from her face, NV-153 leaning closely to the mirror, bent over the sink and smirking in a way that made Cora think she knew something.

The more she stared, the more Cora’s blood turned to fire. The way Cora’s doppelganger seemed to... _examine_ her made Cora want to shrink back from the intensity of it. NV-153’s unwavering eyes burned holes in Cora’s clothes and held secrets that Cora desperately wanted to know.

She leaned over the sink again, almost nose-to-nose with her parallel. She snarled at the doppelgänger, spitting out the words through gritted teeth, “ _You are not real._ ” Meanwhile, the fire in Cora’s blood quickly spread to the rest of her. Settled in the pit of her stomach, flowed through her heart and soul and made its home there. The fire at the core of her started to turn, blacken itself into something dark.

NV-153 hardly acknowledged Cora’s remark, she simply cocked her head to the side and leaned in closer. So close that Cora wondered for a moment despite its absurdity that her doppelgänger would simply walk through. In the end, the movement only angered her more, the blackness in her soul grew quickly, bubbling with rage like the tar pits of Corellia. “ _Leave me alone._ ”

Cora blinked. 

NV-153 was gone.

But the darkness in her continued its siege. Instantly, the darkness inside her rose up to meet the place where Cora’s parallel had been, the invisible force striking the mirror with such a quickness that Cora wouldn’t register what had happened until several seconds later.

The mirror shattered on impact with the Dark. 

The sound of it sent Cora staggering back several steps, the darkness from her veins gone and quickly replaced with fear. Her back hit one of the stall doors, rattling the frame of it gently. Cora’s eyes were wide, the whites of them prominent against the harsh lights.

_She’d done it again._

_Used the Force._

Cora exhaled quickly in disbelief, despair filled her, the memories of the attack on the _Eclipse_ and her dream running through her mind. What was she going to do? No one could find out, or it would mean Cora’s death. Her squadmates would hate her, call her “ _Traitor_ ”. A thought that almost sent Cora over the edge, a sob escaping her mouth before she pressed her lips together to silence it. Tears started to fill her eyes and before they’d even fallen past her cheek, she’d wiped them away. The remaining anger in her stomach turned against her, her own thoughts mercilessly attacking her mind.

* * *

_Weak._

_Stupid._

_You’re useless._

_A broken record that can’t be fixed._

The thoughts wouldn’t leave her, filled her head with insults until the words blended together into mush that reformed itself into a single sentence.

_You should just end it all now._

Cora stood up, filled with new purpose and overwhelming dread, her feet like dead weights as she forced herself over to the sink once again. She looked into the remnants of the fractured mirror. Her eyes were red now. Cora allowed the tears to run down the sides of her face, her throat closing up until she opened her mouth and forced herself to breathe. The trooper looked down into the sink, picked up a large piece of jagged glass that fit nicely in the palm of her right hand, like it was _meant_ to be there.

Her hands trembled, the palm of Cora’s hand starting to dig into the glass. Her breathing wouldn’t calm down, the thoughts in her head goading her on, pushing Cora to take the glass in her hand and run the sharp edge against her— 

Cora chuckled, tears falling down to hit the sink below. She’d remembered something, a faint memory of her early days with the Order. When her heart was still innocent and she would’ve rather caused her own death than follow the First Order and inflict it. It’d happened several times during her years at the Academy, of course that’d been before Tovo.

 _Tovo. He’ll hate me too._ _He’ll kill me_.

For good reason, Cora thought. With the knowledge of the treacherous power lying under her skin, the only hate in Cora’s heart was for herself. 

_He’ll be so disappointed._

Cora could already imagine the way her teacher’s face would drop, a frown encompassing Tovo’s features and brows low and sad on his face. Cora’s new ability would only confirm to Tovo what she’d wanted to desperately disprove for so long: That she was a failure. 

She brought the glass closer to her neck, her hand shaking so much that she stopped to calm herself. If this was the last thing she did in this wretched galaxy, then by the Stars, she would do it _calmly_.

Cora glanced down at the glass again, she tightened her grip, she could feel the glass cutting into the skin of her palm, blood already starting to seep through the edges. The trooper brought the glass closer, so close that she could see her reflection in it. And the second she did that, the purpose died in her eyes.

She couldn’t do it. She threw the shard down in fury, letting it shatter against the floor. Cora turned away from the mirror, lips trembling as sobs wracked her body. _She couldn’t do it._ Her thoughts taunted her, mocked her.

_Coward._

Cora landed in a thud on the floor, her legs spread lazily in front of her. She hated this. All of it. _Why_ couldn’t she just do it? It would be better for everyone involved. Her squad wouldn’t have to suffer the pain of finding out their _friend_ was a piece of kriffing Jedi garbage. Cora wouldn’t have to live with the fact that she was somehow connected to those monsters.

The question rolled over and over again through her mind. _Why?_

_WHY?_

* * *

The door to the fresher opened again, and Cora was reminded of all the other times her failures had led her to the brink of death only to be saved by her own cowardness. Zera walked through the door, blond hair still messy from sleep, forming a wild halo around her head. Her eyes were filled with concern.

Yes, every single time the woman who was the closest thing Cora had to a sister had been there to talk her down.

Zera came closer, shoes tapping slowly against the black tiles before she reached Cora and knelt down beside her. Cora stared straight ahead, eyes glazed over and hollow. She was still, the only indication that she was even alive was the slow, tortuous up and down of Cora’s chest. Zera’s eyes softened at the sight of the trooper, she didn’t speak for a moment, searched Cora’s silent form for the right words to say. 

Zera pressed her lips together, eyebrows clearly pained at the sight before her, “It happened again?” Cora stiffly nodded once, as she did another tear fell down her cheek. The light in her eyes was gone, the color somehow dull and hollow in comparison to their usual dark brown tone. A void, like the rest of her felt. 

In her sadness, Cora almost preferred this to before. The Force had finally silenced itself, hidden itself from her mind. Whatever connection she had was gone at least for the moment, and for that, Cora was glad.

She stiffened when Zera gently held her shoulders and pulled her in, enveloping the stormtrooper in a hug. In any other circumstance, Cora would’ve shrugged out of the gesture, but now all she did was bury her face into the crook of Zera’s shoulder. Zera smelled clean and bright. Comforting. Cora didn’t wrap her arms around Zera, only kneeled stiffly in her squad leader’s arms as Zera held the back of her head. 

The blonde stormtrooper closed her eyes and muttered under her breath, starting to stroke Cora’s black hair, “ _You’re okay. Everything will be alright._ ”

They wouldn’t move for several minutes, although to Cora it felt more like hours. Zera must’ve started crying too, because Cora heard her sniffle and clear her throat. Still holding Cora’s shoulders, Zera moved away, Cora’s teary eyes watching hers all the same.

Zera smiled sadly, her eyes sparkling with tears before she wiped them away, “ Come on. We should go.” Cora didn’t reply, Zera started to try and help her stand up, but Cora was glued to the floor. Zera stood on her knees again, pulling Cora up to her eye level, “Cora, you should _eat something._ ”

That got a reaction. Cora’s eyebrows twitched, her eyes shot open and her head snapped to look at Zera. The squad leader pressed her lips together again, her voice soft and filled with dread, “...Captain Sykes— Tovo heard what happened.”

“ _He’s here to see you._ ”

Zera reached to help Cora up, and Cora quickly brushed her off. The sadness in her eyes was gone, face emotionless as she stood up. The trooper’s back straightened and she walked quickly out of the fresher. Zera’s shoulders had fallen. Her eyes looked straight ahead at Cora’s back. 

The green of her irises filled only with pity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like the way this chapter is written, and it's pretty long, so I'm quite proud of myself honestly.


End file.
